What a DRAG it is....

getting old..

And yes...I am 40 now. So is fellow blogger Kristine. Sometimes blogger Alicia is still in my eyes a fetus...just kidding, she's actually 10x more mature than I am.

So today I was "not working" at work, cruising around the internet and saw the following picture and thought..."oh no, oh no no no." Obviously not over Britney but Madonna. Yes she is in stellar shape as I could probably bounce quarters off 100 percent of her stealth body. But ..no...no...no, this is not a good representation of what the next part of my life should look like....dear lord make it stop.

The other drag about getting old is the other picture I stumbled upon and stared at for 10-15 min (ok half an hour) .

Cute E Pie. Mr Zac Efron. Yup born in 1987... So yes, as they were cutting the umbillical cord, I was in college doing keg stands...

Please don't mention this to my children, but I actually tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss him ....and then felt completely perverted.

"Coo coo ca-choo, Mrs. Robinson ?"

So, does a perverted 40 year old need a role model and start lusting after men my own age?

Perhaps....

Ok ok, how about Julia (role model) and Daniel (lust)

Election Day

Happy Election Day 2008!!!

I can't help but post some motivational posters I found on line. Not to be disrespectful to anyone. They are just freakin funny. Anyone who knows me well could probably take a stab at my political views. But I won't be blogging about that today. I already voted.

Hopefully these photos will offend everyone equally.

See I can make fun of both parties!!

As I drove to the polls this morning saying to myself "I am a good American, I am a good American" (no kidding, I really do that for some reason, I do the same thing after church but substitute "Person" for "American"). I remembered the first polls I went to. 1976, I was 8 years old and my mom brought me over to the high school to watch her vote. My mom was a very liberal person and did not attempt to hide the fact that she was voting for Jimmy Carter. I am sure I was in hand at the 1972 election as well, but I was too young to remember. I remember at 8 years old feeling the excitement watching on our TV as the person MY MOM voted for was elected. I often wish I felt as electrified as an adult.

The experience did leave an impression on me. As soon as I could register to vote, I was proud to go to the very same place my mom voted and punched my ballot for Mike Dukakis...the results weren't as favorable as my 1976 experience.

As the years went by, I continued to vote as the campaigns shifted toward the younger generation where we would "ROCK the vote."

Like my mom, I brought my daughter Cat to vote. The first election that she will probably remember was in 2004. Little sister Cal was left with the hubster (prone to tantrums-both of them) and I gave Cat an inspirational speech about being an American from the captains chair of my minivan. Although she appeared to be completely unmoved by my speech she was happy to get a lollipop and sticker when we left the polls.

This year...I didn't bring them. I was on my way to work and did not have time to run them back home (no school today). I thought "eh, no big deal" "Cat is so nosey these days she will no doubt tell everyone who I voted for anyways."

Behind me in line was a dad with 2 young daughters. He let them find their precinct, took them in the booth and one of them held the ballot as he left the booth (they were too young to even figure out what the black blobs on the paper meant). Admittedly, I did feel a pang of remorse for not bringing my girls to a very important event.

So take your kids, tantrums and all. It will make you feel good and let them understand what being an American is about.

~T

Mother of the Year...please step forward

Part of being "mother of the year" now 10 years and running was priding myself on the fact that my 2 children rarely got into bed with me and the hubster. After a short "ferberization" as a toddler, Cat was a sound sleeper and Cal just wore herself out so severely she rarely got out of bed for any reason.

Thus the extreme patting on the back for myself whenever I heard tales of woe regarding hard sleepers. I think to myself ...I am a good mother...I must be doing something right...RESILIANT CHILDREN=GOOD PARENTING

Not so fast...

Last week, we ventured to Salem, MA for a haunting good time.

We went to the Witch Museum, shopped and took in the local Halloween fun. I was very careful to make sure that we didn't do anything that would frighten the kids...

Then... it happened....I was in a gift shop with my 2 girls and I heard a "tap tap tap" on the window. I looked up to see a 300lb man with a bloody clown mask on and a huge wooden mallet waving to us. Like any good mother I took off as fast as I could across the store out of harms way....without my children. He worked at the store, but regardless...I did completely abandon my children with the scary clown

Then once I came to my senses and gathered up my children to move on to some more shops, we happened upon a haunted house type of area... I was minding my own business (I was staring at really cute witch hats actually) when a man dressed like a mad scientist popped out of a door and grabbed me and said "what are you doing" (no doubt another person in character). This time I screamed and went into a full sprint. At this point, my husband was there with the kids, but there is no doubt in my mind that it was every man (or child) for themselves.

So in conclusion, I realize that my kids are completely resilient due to the fact that they know their mom offers absolutely no protection for them in the event of "the boogeyman." Crawling in bed with mom and dad offers little comfort as I am the biggest "fraidy cat" on the planet.

I will take my mother of the year award now...thank you

~T

Hairy Situation

Today during coffee hour after church, I happened to make eye contact with a woman who gave me a warm, almost amused smile on this rainy Sunday. She later approached me while I was in line for coffee to tell me that she liked my hair because its all "poufy" like Sarah Palin's. I was a bit embarrassed as I usually am when anyone brings up the painful subject of my hair, so I smiled and said "thank you." But unfortunately that didn't end it... The woman went on to say that unlike Sarah Palin, my hair was frizzy. At that point I decided to correct her by saying "you mean curly..." and she smiled and said "oh yeah, that too."

Painful subject? My hair? Yes. I was "blessed" with a massive amount of EXTREMELY curly hair. It was very curly as a child, then morphed into somewhat wavy, then after my second daughter was born went back to being curly.... not sure why, but that's just the way it is. And once we left the big haired 80's and spiral perms were out of fashion, I was out of luck.

"Yes, I know how to blow dry my hair straight." Is the usual response to hair dressers when I meet them for the first time. Not a concept I haven't explored over the years as I own every product on the market to do so. I can consistently straighten my hair well in winter when the air in New England is cool, crisp and most importantly...dry. But for the rest if the seasons, we are talking Shirley Temple.

And while we are talking about celebrities with curly hair. I can't begin to tell you the angst I feel when my fellow curly tops like Julia Roberts, Sarah Jessica Parker and Kyra Sedgwick straighten their locks. I feel so abandoned.... What I wouldn't give for poker straight, shiny, not affected my humidity hair. And I have given plenty as I went through a phase where every 6 weeks or so, I would get it chemically straightened.

For those of you who consider this a vain post....my apologies.

Its just a subject that is brought to my attention on a weekly basis. I kid you not...a week does not go by without someone making a comment about my hair....good, bad, but usually some sort of weird backhanded compliment.

Gimme Some FACE (and other news...)

Since I found My Space to be so totally immature for a woman in her (cough cough) 40's, I have been feeling at a loss. How will I distract myself from my job, how will I be able to peek into other people's lives, how will I let people peek into my life and lastly how can I be absolutely certain that I am doing better than some of my ex boyfriends...even if I do have to (cough cough) embellish a bit.

The answer came to me from "sometimes fellow blogger" and slightly distracted co-worker Alicia...FACEBOOK. Oh yes, my latest and greatest way to add another addiction to my already fun filled life. I sent Happy Hour requests, play Texas Hold Em with people from all over and send Peices of Flair that are just tooo cute for words. I let all of my friends know what I am doing every moment of my exciting day. I highly recommend it. I mean how else could I let people that I haven't spoken to in 15 years know that I am bored or tired today or that it's raining. They NEED to know these things dammit!!! And the pictures..oh the pictures...the hours I spend agonizing over a pictures of myself to PROVE to everyone that I am aging well from the shoulders up (cough cough), that I have a husband and 2 adorable children. I have something to prove, I have no torso below my waist, I have had sex at least twice and the guy in the picture is the one I had sex with. And friends...just dozens.....I ratchet them up daily. Do I speak to even half of them...nope...but dammit I have friends. 'Nuff said..

Next topic....Greys Anatomy. Because I am too dumb to DVR anything and it was competing against The Office, I fell behind last year. From what I figured out on last night's episode I didn't miss much. However, a new and very interesting element was added last night. Kevin McKidd from Rome (one of my favorite HBO shows) is slated to be Christina's new love interest. Talk about Sex on a Stick, this show is turning into porn for women. Thank you, thank you Grey's Anatomy. 2 requests though, stop Meridith from calling Christina "her person" (we get it) and just get rid of Katherine Heigl (she doesn't get it), just keep showing good looking people having sex and I will be alright with that.

Ok, next topic....Hot off the presses from Yahoo Sports. The Phillie Phanatic caused a bomb scare by blowing up hot dogs outside of the ballpark. Fantastic fantastic... just had to mention that news blurb.

And a new amendment to my "Get over Yourself"...blog. Roger Clemens was "heartbroken" over being left out of the video montage of Yankee pitchers at the Yankee's final game at Yankee Stadium. You were going to get booed, move on.

POKE YOU SOON!!

T

Hope? Hop-ing? Hope-full? Hope-less"

No this is not a blog about the Patriots
Nor is this going to be a spiritual, or inspirational post

Hope is defined as: The feeling that what is wanted can be had or that events will turn out for the best

But to this blogger...HOPE means one thing...

Hope Steadman

Yes of the show Thirtysomething

I am not sure why this show came to mind this morning while getting the kids ready for school. I was having one of my self indulgent Monday mornings thinking "is this it?" "this is what I signed up for?" And I thought of Hope Steadman... I thought as I had my 3rd argument of the morning "you signed up to play the saxophone and you are going to practice it young lady!!" Would Hope be having this argument with Janey?

I LOVED LOVED LOVED Thirtysomething. I thought I was going to be Hope Steadman. What cracks me up about that thought is when the show started, not only was I not a Thirtysomething...I was not even a Twentysomthing at the time. I was an Eighteen or Nineteensomething. I so desperately wanted to be a self involved, tortured mother who gave up her career for a heaping dose of Yuppie Guilt. I wanted to have friend's like smokey voiced Ellyn or funky Melissa (athough I wasn't a huge fan of Nancy, she was after all married to the actor that played Michael Steadman...which made her ok in my book). I also would loved to had a steamy affair with wild maned Gary (I know, I know that was never a storyline for Hope, but what the hell it is my fantasy right?).

Well the one thing in common, is I did marry a guy named Michael and I did have a daughter by the time I was Thirtysomething. But that's pretty much it. I was too young to be a baby boomer or a yuppie by the time I was Thirtysomething. None of us had great careers we were "sacrificing" and would easily have been "sellouts" for a decent salary. We weren't refurbishing old houses and listening to Van Morrison and talking about politics. We were staring at starter mansions, getting our first SUV and trying to drop baby weight for our 15 year reunion.

I have the feeling Hope wasn't stumbling around her back yard with Gary and Elliot on her 40th birthday either.

Perhaps I should have modeled myself after Carrie Bradshaw....

"But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of"

~Lord Byron

Yes I am

So I was re-reading a blog from last year, V is for Victory, where I begin my yearly debate on how involved I need to or want to be in regards to school, soccer and the other childhood events for Cat and Cal.


Last year, I volunteered for nothing. I sat back and relaxed and outside of the occassional "hey do you need me to steal some post it notes from work?", I enjoyed life as a hands off mom....sort of.


This year, at the slight urging of my oldest child, I agreed to assist coaching her soccer team. At the slight urging of my friend Tanya, I agreed to teach church school. At the slight urging of a 8x10 yellow sheet from my children's school I signed up for yearbook committee, 5th grade celebration and night of the arts at the school.


At the severe urging of my nervous system I woke up the other night sweating trying to figure out not only why I did this but how was I going to do this.


This week, I set off on my adventure of assistant coach. Guess what? It was a lot of fun, I was less stressed about coaching than about actually having to sit back and watch them practice.




Then I got a notice from Tanya. Church School starts next week, pick up your materials and be at the Open House on Sunday. Again, after a slight meltdown, I picked up the materials, went through them and thought...this is going to be easier than last year...but I couldn't put my finger on why.




What was happening here.


Then I realized it, I am a complete and utter control freak. I mean, I have been told by many people in my life (friends, co-workers, children, police officers, therapists, ministers, teachers, spouse...) that I am one. But until I sat back (after brushing my 7 year old's teeth for her and laying out my 10 year old's clothes for school) and thought about why volunteering (taking complete control) felt so good to me. I am a control freak through and through. It was more stressful to sit back and watch others coach my kids, plan events at the school etc... than to actually TAKE CHARGE myself.


So for those of you in my life reading this....I apologize....and admit....yes.....I need to dominate and control every aspect of not only my life...but yours as well.


BE AFRAID, BE VERY AFRAID




~T